The Fall of Rome
by Asproy
Summary: Rome has ruled the Mediterranean for many years, but even the greatest empires have to fall eventually and they always leave someone behind.
1. I: in villa

Rome looked fondly at his two grandchildren, Veneziano and Romano, as they lay sleeping on couches in Rome's villa after eating mumbled something inaudibly, then rolled over so he faced Rome and began sucking his thumb. Romano swore in the pillows. Rome smiled, his grandchildren were too precious for words.

But a couch was no place for a child to sleep. He picked them both up and slung them over his shoulders. Quietly the empire snuck into the children's room, then carefully laid them out on their beds.

"That is much more comfortable, no?"

He stayed at their sides, watching them sleep for a few minutes, until he heard knocking at his door. "Sicilia, who is it?" he called out to his door slave.

"It is the Emperor," Sicilia responded, unfazed by the fact that the most powerful man in the Mediterranean was knocking at the door. Sicilia had opened the door for countless emperors, dictators, senators, and triumphant generals to be bothered by something so insignificant.

"Let him in," Rome replied, as if there was another conceivable answer. "Oh, and tell Gaul to make another dinner, the emperor will surely be hungary,"

"Yes, sire"

"And try to delay him, I need to change into something better,"

"Yes sire,"

Rome left the children's room and hastily went into his own. He threw off the casual tunic and looked about for something grander to wear. He caught sight of his old military uniform, the golden chestpiece still gleamed but the leather was worn and bloodstained. He contemplated wearing it, his glorious conquering past might be behind him, but he was still a powerful military nation, right? He banished the thought from his head. It was an absurd thought to dress in uniform when meeting these new emperors, Augustus had loved it, but the man had been dead and cremated for centuries. These were more civilized (might he say weak?) men, and he had to dress accordingly. He took out one of his finest tunics, then laid out a toga. These would do.

After dressing he went into the study, where Sicilia was entertaining the emperor, telling him some old story of the Punic wars. Both of them turned around when Rome entered the room.

"Salve, my emperor, you look well" Rome said, greeting the man.

"Salve, my friend, Sicilia was telling me a most interesting story about Carthage. It is hard to believe there ever was someone who could change the might of Rome," Here the emperor shook his fists.

Rome smiled, "I believe dinner is ready, Gaul has prepared us a feast for the ages,"

"Good, good! I know when I come here, I will never leave with an empty stomach,"

Once Sicilia was out of earshot, the old man leaned in and whispered into Rome's ear.

"There is something I must discuss with you."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, all reviews are appreciated. I have not studied Roman history for a while, so if you find any errors later on, send me a message.


	2. II: cena

Rome led the emperor into the dining room, where the first course had already been laid out by Britannia, who was ferrying the dishes in and out of the dining room. The emperor and Rome reclined on opposite couches as they ate the first part of the meal.

"So what have you come here to speak of?"

"Oh, news from Byzantium and the generals in the north are getting jumpy again, like nervous cats they are" the emperor responded, nonchalantly reaching for another egg. "These are bonum, tell me what sort are they?"

"Simple duck eggs"

"Really? They do not taste like it. Your Gaul is a cook optima"

"She certainly is, are you sure that is all?" Rome said with an edge to his voice, he could not bring himself to trust a man who disregarded the words of his generals so casually.

"Of course! You act as if they warn of impending invasion."

"Do they?"

The emperor faltered, then said "Of course they do. You know generals, warning of invasion then overthrowing the emperor, you've seen that happen so many times; Vespasian, Septimus Severus, Augustus himself if you count overthrowing the triumvirate"

And all were better emperors than you and your ilk, Rome thought to himself as the emperor continued.

"In fact, I think that you should worry about the generals, they seem a shady bunch to me."

"mhm"

After Britannia brought the middle course, the emperor and empire gorged on the rich meats that Gaul had prepared and admiring the artistically decorated peacock that was served on a golden platter. Rome was quite pleased with how the meal had gone, but as they pecked at the desert the emperor thought there was something missing.

"Where is that beautiful ancilla of yours, the one who used to sing so prettily?"

"Iberia?"

"That's her name."

Rome sighed, then whistled and gestured toward the table. A brown haired woman entered the room, a lyre in one hand. After a nod from Rome she began to play some old song, singing as she played.

Rome looked over to the emperor, who was greedily watching Iberia dance, a twisted expression on the old man's face. The performance was cut short by the shrill cry of an infant and Rome waved her away to deal with the boy, much to the emperor's disappointment.

"I think that concludes cena," Rome said, getting up and gesturing toward the study again. "I want to hear about the events in my little Byzantium's house-"

"He is hardly little anymore," the emperor chuckled

"and what those northern general's have to say." Rome added. The emperor's smile shifted and he grudgingly got up and headed toward the study.

* * *

Latin Glossary:

bonum: good

optima: very good, excellent

ancilla: slave girl

cena: the evening meal, largest of the day

* * *

I expect to be updating this story every two or three days, thank you for coming back.


	3. III: in tablino

The emperor reluctantly followed Rome back to the study, where Sicilia was waiting for them. He had drawn up an extra chair and had opened up the chest that sat near the side of the desk. The emperor and Rome seated themselves, then Rome dismissed Sicilia from the room.

Rome decided to ease into the conversation, although he was (well, had been) a militaristic nation, his leaders had managed to teach him tact.

"So, how is Byzantium? I have not had news from him in quite a while."

"Well enough, he sends a salve and tells you not to worry, he is doing fine."

"How has he taken the death of Constantine? I know he was very fond of him."

"Rather well all things told, he has decided to honor his first dominum much like you did."

"Ita vero?"

"He has named his capital Constantinople in Constantine's honor,"

"It is only proper that he follow tradition,"

"Perhaps so, ah, have you heard that Graecia is dead?"

"mineme!"

"Ita vero, Byzantium wrote that when he came into her room one morning he found lying dead. He is taking care of her child though, poor, sickly thing that it is."

"eheu, it seems like all us old nations are dying, I myself feel a bit weak now, soon only Germania will be left."

"Don't say such things, you are the grandest of nations, the barbarians have never humbled you."

"But there you are wrong, he has."

The emperor looked pale. "He has?"

"Yes, did your rhetor fail to teach you anything?"

"My rhetor was a very great man!"

"I'm sure" Rome said, an unmasked note of skepticism in his voice.

"sed, I am an old man. Perhaps you could help trigger my memory?"

"Very well. In three hundred sixty six ab urbe condita, the Senones under Brennus captured the city of Rome,"

"And?" replied the emperor, now intrigued.

"I was looted and forced to pay large amounts of gold, losing is not cheap,"

"et vae victis"

"Exactly. I have no intention of letting that had again, now tell me about this threat the northern generals perceive," Rome finished, ever so slightly pleased with himself for maneuvering the conversation so.

The emperor saw he was trapped. "The generals think that the Germanic tribes are planning an invasion, the generals say that they think the Romans are weak and indulgent. But why should e trust the words of those generals?"

"They are our watchmen,"

"And quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"

"So your rhetor taught you Juvenal but not history?"

"Do not insult my rhetor, he was a good and wise man," The emperor stood up in a brief show of anger.

"Most certainly," Rome said, applying a sickly sweet coat of politeness to his voice.

"And my question still lacks an answer," the emperor rebuffed.

"Then I will give it one,"

"Please do," the emperor growled through gritted teeth.

"I will,"

"What?"

"I will go and see what this threat is, it is a long time since I have had a campaign and I wish to see the remains of my empire,"

"And what about me? My hold on power here will weaken without you."

"Britannia will help you with that,"

"How?"

"Simple, invite your enemies over here for dinner and tell Britannia to cook for you. They will be extremely ill before the meal is over, half of them will die within a week,"

"You teach your slaves the art of poison and give them access to the vile herbs?"

"Britannia needs neither instruction nor poison," And with that enigmatic phrase, Rome turned around and marched out of the room calling:

"Sicilia, gather my traveling gear, we are going on a campaign!"

Sicilia smiled to himself as he saw the emperor's look of amazement,

"As you wish, my lord"

* * *

Latin Glossary

salve: hello, greeting

dominum: master

ita vero: yes

Graecia: Greece

mineme: no

eheu: alas

rhetor: teacher

sed: but

ab urbe condita: from the founding of the city

et vae victis: and woe to the conquered

quis custodiet ipsos custodes: who watches the watchmen

in tablino: in the study

* * *

Thank again for reading, the next update is going to be a bit later in all likelihood, expect on Monday or so.


	4. IV: iter

Rome sat on his horse, surveying the petty force he had managed to muster. It had been two weeks since his talk with the emperor, who had reluctantly given his consent for an investigative patrol near the northern border. Three raggedy cohorts followed him, there feet already dragging and a general feeling of woe was emitted from the company. Rome frowned, the emperor had only agreed to allow Rome a force if it was small enough to remain inconspicuous and it had to be completely voluntary. But the last condition had made the first condition completely unnecessary. The legions around the capital had no lust for campaigning; they were content to stay near Rome and civilization.

The only recruits he had managed to conjure up were young, inexperienced, fresh recruits who barely knew how to hold a gladius let alone use one in formation. However Rome had had hopes for his little patrol, they might be utterly useless in any military sense but they had the true spirit of a Roman soldier, honor and glory; well, they had had it for at least the first three nights.

So now he had to train a patrol to fight, go to the north, see where the threat was, and combat it. He had faced greater challenges, but not when he was an old man.

He heard hoofbeats behind him and turned to see a man riding up on a dusty grey steed. It was one of his centurions, a man by the name of Probus, and the only skilled officer the company had. He was an older man, well into his forties, but still robust and equipped with a better mind than the emperor.

Rome felt a sly smile creep onto his lips, in previous years he had suppressed any dissent against his emperors, now he joined in, if not openly.

"Salve, mi Probi"

"Salve, pater; a nuntius rides in from the east, he claims he has news of great importance."

"Detain him, I want to hear this news."

"Very well," Probus rode off to the end of the column. A few minutes later he returned to the head of the patrol, where Rome was riding. Following him was a spirited bay, on which was mounted a man Rome assumed to be the nuntius, he was a young fellow with shaggy brown hair, he looked very much like a Greek.

"Is this the messenger?" Rome asked Probus, eyeing the youth, who was having difficulties controlling his steed.

Probus nodded, "He says he was sent to Rome from Byzantium, apparently they are have trouble there, and to tell his message to the first high ranking military officer he found. He saw our patrol and decided to ride with us until he reached a general." Probus added with a trace of irony.

Rome turned to the rider. "You may ride with us for the time being, ride up here and tell me what is happening in Byzantium."

"I was instructed to only tell high ranking officers of the Roman Empire, and you hardly look as if you were one"

Rome looked over to Probus, who was wearing an expression of disbelief on his face.

"Boy, this is the Roman Empire."

* * *

Latin Glossary

gladius: sword

salve, mi Probi: hello, my Probus

pater: father

nuntius: messenger

iter: journey


	5. V: nuntius

The messenger's smug expression was replaced by one of shock. His mouth hung ajar and he gaped like a fish before regaining some of his former composure.

"You are the Roman Empire?" he let out a hollow, scornful laugh. "I refuse to believe such a scruffy senem is the great Roman Empire."

Rome was on the verge of running the insolent young man through with his gladium when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned to see Probus shaking his head.

"It's not worth it, sire. Besides, if every caudex was run through with a gladius the emperor might be startled from his bath."

Rome chuckled, in his mind's eye he could see the decadent old man basking in the thermae. "Oh no, we couldn't allow that. Do not worry, I will use tact and diplomacy. " He turned back to the messenger.

"You do not believe I am Rome?" he asked, his face darkening with a show of malevolence. The messenger shrunk back in spite of himself as Rome continued in a frosty monotone, "Well, then believe this," The young man shivered as he felt the touch of cold steel against his neck. "If you get in my way, if you try t prevent me from protecting my empire, you," might not have a long life. I am just a scruffy senem, what do I know about handling a sword? I might, eheu"Rome let his grip waver and the gladius gently bit into the messenger's neck until a single drop of blood crawled down the boy's neck.

Suddenly he sheathed the sword and gave the youth a dazzling smile. "So, what news comes from the East?"

"The Visigoths they are, are, are..." The messenger's voice faltered.

"Are what?" Rome asked, his voice childishly sweet.

The messenger still was at a loss for words, Probus hissed at Rome "What happened to tact and diplomacy?" before handing the frightened boy his flask of wine. "Here, sip this."

After a few gulps, he recovered enough to answer. "Thank you. The visigoths have invaded, they're back and they're heading straight for Rome."

Probus' head snapped up. "It couldn't be?"

"Alaric." Rome growled under his breath. "Germania"

* * *

Latin Glossary

senex: old man

gladius: sword

caudex: blockhead

thermae: baths

eheu: oh dear, alas

nuntius: messenger

* * *

I apologize for all Latin grammatical errors and this short chapter, I've had exams and a case of writer's block, this was the least bad version to spawn from my keyboard.

*Spelling errors have been fixed; thank you Anonymous Person Forever.


	6. VI: corpus

Rome's army moved quickly, the dragging of feet and quiet grumbling gave way to the thunder of the hasten march and the clash of iron with every footfall. Even the lowest of plebeian soldiers gained determination and endurance as the cohorts launched themselves into headlong flight toward Rome in a desperate race to reach the city before Goths.

But even the most desperate armies had to rest. With no time to construct a castra, Rome had his soldiers pitch their tents on a hill with a few unfortunate soldiers standing guard in shifts. Rome stood outside the silent outcropping of tents, every candle was extinguished and every word a whisper. Much as he hated to admit it, this was the only way his army could reach Rome alive, they would be massacred in any fair fight against the Germanic army. In Rome things would be different. The city would be prepared and ready for attack. The Goths would roll back from the city like a carpet as they so often had. He had sent messengers to warn the garrisons.

Rome was startled out of his thoughts. Probus was returning with the report of the patrol that had been sent out before them, carrying a crushed cassis in his hand.

"What news from the forerunners, Probus?"

"One of the nuntii has been found dead."

"Quod?"

"He was found dead at the edge of the edge of a rich man's fundum, his slaves found the body. Naturally, he was extremely upset that we let a soldier so close to his farm, said it would demoralize the slaves.."

"Those divites are avari. What has become of an empire when he can no longer let messengers ride swifty for free of aggravating someone? Who killed the soldier? A vengeful slave or fur?"

"No, there is more to this. He was found stripped clean of his armor, we could only tell he was a soldier from the fact his amici recognized his face, we also found this crushed helm nearby. A gothic spear was embedded into his spine."

"Alaric's soldiers killed him?"

"It would appear so, or at least, his forerunners did."

"Did you find the message I had given him on the body?"

"No, the Visigoths must have taken it."

Rome swore under his breath. "Are you sure?"

"We searched the entire body, if it was there, we would have found it."

"Give me that helmet." Rome took it and looked it over."Did any of the previous messengers return?"

"No"

"None of them?"

"Not a single one, not entirely unusual, they have no reason to return here except to deliver a message, and then the commanders would sent their own nuntii."

"And there has been no news from the commanders."

"What is wrong, sir?"

Rome turned over the helm, revealing the number XIX written out in blood. "I have sent out twenty messengers, it seems only one has not been slain. The emperor knows nothing about the invasion but what he has heard in rumor.. They are going to be taken unawares."

* * *

Latin Glossary

castra: fortified camp

quod: what

fundus: farm

dives: rich man

avarus: greedy

fur: thief

amicus

cassis: helm

* * *

Another shoddy chapter, thanks for hanging in there. There is a light at the end of this mediocre tunnel, I hope.

Rome's army is entirely fictional (to the best of my knowledge), don't throw this into a report or anything.


	7. VII: tempestus

In Rome's villa, two pueri, were trembling together in their shared dormitorio as a storm raged outside. They screamed as the whip of thunder cracked overhead, and held each other all the tighter.

"Fr-frater, Deus is angry at us! We're going to die!" hollered the younger of the two, Veneziano.

"fabulae! You're an idiot, this is just a storm!" Romano replied, obviously unconvinced by his own words.

They jumped when the door suddenly opened. In came Gaul, her hair a mess and wearing an old tunic.

"mi liberi, what is wrong? Is it the storm outside? Do not be afraid." she picked them up and set them on her lap.

"avus said that when god is angry at us he will make the sky fall down!" Veneziano whispered, his eyes large and round.

"Rome was just trying to scare little children like you, you know how he is." Gaul said, petting Veneziano's

head.

"Hey, we're not little children! We're tough!"

"Of course, Romano. My tough milites, who are going to protect me, just like their avus."

"Gaul?"

"Yes, Veneziano?"

"Is it true that the barbari are coming?"

Gaul hesitated before answering. "The emperor does not think so, but the men in the countryside say that an army is sacking the villages and fields."

"Tell us about the madman again."

"Two days ago a soldier came riding in, proclaiming that Rome was going to fall victim to a massive Gothic army from the east. The emperor thought it was just stories concocted by the generals, but in all his wisdom, he decided to let the messenger live for one day and wait for the coming of more messengers. No one came, and the emperor decided to condemn the man to death in the arena. He threw him in the colosseum, where he proclaimed that everything he said was true until SCRAMP" Gaul clapped her hands. "and lion bit off his head."

"Serves him right, going against the emper- emper- emperoar."

"Emperor." Gaul corrected. "Goodnight children," she tucked them in and kissed their foreheads. She was halfway out the door when Romano piped up:

"Gaul? Rome's going to be back soon, right?"

"Of course."

"And he's going to protect us from the barbarians?"

"Of course he is, as long as he's alive no harm will come to either of you."

"Gaul?"

"What is it?"

"You're my favorite ancilla you bastard."

Gaul smiled. "Good night, mi pueri"

Latin Glossary

villa: house

puerum: boy

dormitorio: bedroom

fabulae: stories, nonsense

liberi: children

avus: grandfather

militus: soldier

barbarus: barbarian

ancilla: female slave.

tempestus: storm


	8. VIII: ante obsidione

Easily batting aside the feeble Roman forces that nearby garrisons sent to to hinder their progress, the Gothic forces made their way down the Italian. The barbarian horde left a river of destruction and grief behind them that flowed with the blood of the slaughtered. Driven mad by the prospect of righting recounted wrongs and earning both greater status and acquiring loot, the army was a frenzied juggernaut that rabidly sacked the nearby towns in search of plunder, tore apart the great Roman architectural achievements, and ravaged the countryside, The Visigoth warriors were merciless in their rampage,taking shamelessly from patricius and plebeius alike.

At the head of the army were three men, bedecked in ornate armor and carrying glittering gladii that flashed like stars in the evening light. Unlike most the Visigoth soldiers, who rode on simple farm horses if at all, they sat upon highly bred stallions, bred to perfection for use in the midst of battles and on long campaigns, recently seized from the possession of a garrison general. The new owners had hardly had time to wash the man's blood from the horses' flanks. These men were the leaders of the ravenous horde, the near gods would decide the fate of the Roman empire. Alaric the Goth, his brother by marriage Ataulf, and their warring nation, Germania.

"I tell you, the best way to besiege the city is to break down the gates then," Alaric made a jerking gesture with his hand, "schnell into the city"

"That might be too risky, perhaps we should starve them out with a long siege." Ataulf replied.

"Risk? From was? No force has been able to stop us yet and I can't see how you plan on feeding this army while we starve them out."

"They might have an ambush waiting. You know what a devious campaigner Rome is."

"How could he set up an ambush?"

"We have been traipsing through the country rather indiscreetly."

"And we killed every messenger we came across,"

"Ja, aber"

Germania stopped listening to the two men and their words became nothing more than an annoying buzz in his ear, they had discussed battle plans for when they reached Rome countless times before. He understood the need for thoroughness in war but did it need to be discussed every time the conversation lapsed? He sighed, for all their lapses in judgement and general habit of being irritating, they were good men. Or as his young grandson liked to say, they were "awesome". Germania smiled, the thought of the little blood eyed boy distracted him from his growing headache. He thought back to the last time he saw the boy. When was that? He couldn't remember, the campaign was the only thing he could remember clearly, perhaps he really was growing old.

"Da! Rom!"

Germania snapped his head up and saw the city sprawled out on the ground like a sleeping cat, decedant and wealthy. He let a savage smile find it's way onto his face. Tomorrow, Rome would fall.

* * *

Latin Glossary

gladius: sword

patricius: patrician, aristocrat

plebeius: plebeian, commoner

ante obsidione: before the siege

German Glossary (because I don't know Gothic)

schnell: quickly

was: what

ja: yes

aber: but

da: there

Rom: Rome

* * *

Author's note: This is one of the last chapters, I hope you enjoy it and I thank you for reading it.


	9. IX: sanguis fluit

Dawn was breaking overhead as the thundering footfalls of the barbarian army came to a stop before the walls of Rome, their progress had been hastened by the by the sight of the imperial city. It drew the plunder thirsty warriors to it like iron nails to magnetic ore. Roman milites poured out from other gates around the city and attacked the savage horde, but were beaten back with easy by the larger Gothic army.

Alaric guided his horse to the highest point near the city gate. "Slaves, nach vorn." He bellowed.

"Bereit die Rammbock" Germania's voice cracked out like a whip.

The great siege engine parted the crowd of barbarian warriors as is was slowly rolled to the front of the army, halting before Rome's great Salarian gate.

"Eins!"

The slaves nervously gripped the ropes of the ram, cautiously eyeing the spears their Visigoth captors were pointing at them. A scream rang out and a body fell lifeless to the ground. A slave had not been swift enough and hesitated, another slave stepped in to take her place.

"Zwei!"

The slave threw their weight against the ropes and pulled the ram back, it lowered it head in a menacing bow until-

"DREI!" Alaric roared out.

The slaves released the ropes, and the great ram's head surged forward and hit the gate with a resounding bang. The gate cracked under the force but did not give way. Germania gritted his teeth and started the command again. This time the whole army lent its voice to the order as the warriors joined in.

"Einz!" The slavs gripped the ropes. Some of the Visigoths also grabbed at the ropes, adding their strength to that of the slaves.

"Zwei" The ram reared back, further than it had before, even the slaves were filled with a morbid excitement.

"Drei!" The ram's head rushed forward, hitting the gate in the exact center. This time the gate gave way, breaking open in massive splinters around the battering ram. The barbarians cheered.

Germania and Alaric unsheathed their swords and pointed the way into the city as the bloodthirsty horde poured into the city like a river of glittering steel.

The sack of Rome had begun.

Rome watched in dismay as he saw the great battering tear the Salarian Gate apart. He had arrived too late, the city lay open to Gothic sack and pillage like an oyster, and the pearl of this oyster was the wealthy center; where the palace, temples, and his villa lay. He swore under his breath, how had he forgotten about them? His grandchildren were now in the heart of danger, with no escape. How did he let this happen? Probus rode up to him.

"Sir, what is our plan of attack? Do you have a strategy?"

"dedisce the strategy!" Rome unsheathed his gladium, his eyes glittering savagely. "Romani, charge!" He spurred his horse forward and led his army down the hill toward the Gothic army in a madman's charge.

The Roman's slammed into the flank of the barbarian army, steel crashing against steel as the Romans fought the invaders, but for all their strength and determination, every time a Roman soldier struck down a Goth, two more would take their fallen comrade's place. Each Roman killed three Goths but soon they fell to the earth. Rome tore apart the chests of two Visigoths, only to turn to see Probus felled like a oak tree, battle axes embedded in his back.

Rome's army was thinning and the tide of war swept him away from his company and into rushing stream of Visigoth warriors rushing inside the Salarian Gate.

Rome paused for a moment when he caught sight of a familiar figure, Germania. His eyes saw red as his rushed the other nation, blood stained gladium rushing toward his opponent's neck. Germania turned at the last second and met Rome's sword with his own.

"So you finally showed up? What a lovely city you have here. I hate to pillage it," Germania said, his voice mocking as he parried Rome's thrusts.

"You perfuga! How dare you attack my city!" Rome lunged forward.

"Why not? It's exactly what you did to all the others; Carthage, Egypt, Greece, et cetera. It's my turn now."

The two battled back and forth until Germania stretched out a leg. Rome charge and tripped. Next thing he knew was Germania's sword pointed at his chest.

"Ignavus! Only a coward would use such a dirty trick!"  
"Strange way to beg for your life." His sword scratched Rome's skin. "Any last words?"

Germania sunk his sword into Rome's chest.

"Don't you dare harm them." Rome coughed up blood and then was still.

Germania kicked dirt over him and then hurried to return to the fray.

* * *

Latin Glossary

militus: soldier

dedisce: forget (used google translate= highly questionable)

gladius: sword

Romani: Romans

perfuga: traitor

ignavus: coward

German Glossary

nach vorn: forward, to the front

Bereit die Rammbock: Ready the battering ram (used google translate for battering ram, if incorrect, tell me.)

eins: one

zwei: two

drei:

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry that this chapter was so late, it was rather difficult to write. Thank you for being so patient. One more chapter to go.


	10. X: finis

It was dusk by the time Germania found the villa, the red eye of the sun glaring at him from behind the house as it loathingly watched the day's carnage. It had taken Germania a few hours to find the house, he had first aided Alaric in the sacking of the palace of the emperor and to his surprise he found that Rome did not live there. He had not been deterred and after a few interrogations and a bit brandishing of his sword he had been guided in the direction of the old army quarters.

Now he stood before a typical ancestral patrician villa, it's white marble cracked and facade largely unadorned, but the building was unmistakable. He had never been to Rome's house before, but the house could only belong to one man. Germania reached out to touch the names a mason had carved over the door. On was written the names of the countries Rome had conquered on one side; Sicilia, Iberia, Gaul, and others; on the other side was written the names of the countries he had vanquished; Etruscan, and...Carthage. Germania hand stopped there, not bothering to contemplate the other names.

Today he had felled the mighty Roman Empire, today he would take his vengeance on the empire, today he would gain the means to become the most powerful, and today he would take back that which Rome stole from him.

He tore the front door off it's hinges.

The sweet smell of vengeance drew him inside like a moth to a flame.

The two grandsons of Rome were hiding behind three large amphorae in the culina when they heard the footsteps coming in from the atrium. They listened as the footsteps ceased when the intruder paused, their breathes and the breaths of the nearby ancillae seeming unnaturally loud in the unnatural stillness, the proud house of Rome was silenced by fear.

"Frater," Veneziano whispered, his voice low. "Who is it?"

"How should I know?" Romano snapped back, equally quiet. "I can't see or hear any better than you can, caudex."

Veneziano whimpered, "I wish avus was here."

"Wishing isn't going to help us and neither is Rome. He's either abandoned us or dead."

"Don't say such things! Avus l-" Veneziano angrily swatted at his brother, who fell over trying to evade his brother's fist. He fell against an amphora. It teetered on it's base for a moment before falling to the ground with a heavy thud.

Germania was distracted by the mosaic he was examining by a loud clatter coming from somewhere in the back of the villa. He stopped and listened for a moment before unsheathing his sword, the sound of metal sliding against its sheath reverberated throughout the house. An echoing noise came from the tablinum. Germania smiled, so there were still slaves left in this house. The cruel smile on his face grew into a delighted snarl. He crept toward the study.

With shaking hands Sicilia gripped the dagger and pressed his lean body against the doorframe as he heard the intruder creep closer. The only light that entered the dark tablinum came in through the doorway. He could see the shadow of the intruder cast against the opposite wall. He tried to calm his nerves, he could do this, he could protect Rome's house, he was a nation after all and the intruder was probably just a barbarian warrior. At last the warrior was close enough for Sicilia to hear the man's breathes. Sicilia leapt in front of the man and lunged forward, until the sight of the man's face froze him. "Germania?" he gasped, frozen with shock. Germania didn't even hesitate as he parried Sicilia's dagger, then he carelessly lopped off the man's hand with a simple flick of his wrist. The lifeless hand fell to the floor as Silicia howled in agony and clutched the stump. Another motion and the stolen gladius embedded in Sicilia's gut, bringing the nation to his knees.

Germania bent down, removing the dagger from the dismembered hand, and whispered into the dying man's ear, "Who is your master?"

"Rome." Snarled Sicilia before the treacherous dagger in the hands of Germania found his heart and stained its master crimson.

Sicilia's screams were heard in every room of the villa. Behind the amphorae, the two Italian brothers whimpered in fear, the agonized cry of the nation held not half the terror of the silence that came after it.

As Germania removed the dagger from Sicilia's corpus, he felt the touch of a quivering tip of cold steel against his neck.

"et tu, Gaulia?"

Gaul prodded the Germaniac nation's neck. "You killed him," her voice enraged and desperate.

"Indeed I did. He screamed quite a bit less than this caudex." Germania replied nonchalantly, kicking the corpse of Sicilia.  
"I was speaking of Sici-" her voice stopped. "You, you killed him?"

"Be more specific," Germania crooned in a vinegar sweet voice. "Who is he?"

"You know what I mean." Gaul said, her voice colored by quiet desperation and hanging her head, the sword she had been menacing the intruder with hanging limp at her side.

He turned around and forced her head up with his hands.

"Mi columba," He said, smiling sweetly. "I would never..." his smile morphed into a cruel sneer. "leave Rome alive. Your master is dead by my own hand!" He thrust her down onto her knees. She wept fervently. "If you feel that way it's best you join him." Germania started to swing his sword into Gaul's neck.

"Minime!" Germania looked up to see two young boys hurtling themselves at him.

"Bastard!" Romano threw himself at Germania's chest while Veneziano attached himself to the nation's left leg, biting and clawing.

"Little rogues." Germania hissed. "Just like your opa was." He kicked Veneziano away and held the furious Romano an arm's length away from him. He dropped the boy and threw his dagger at Romano.

It landed with a thump in the soft chest of Gaul, who threw herself in its way. He looked critically at the dying nation. "Truthfully Gaul? You could not think of a more worthwhile cause for which to die than protecting a child not even your own?"

Gaulia gasped out with her last breath, "Master's children are my children." Then she slumped over, lifeless.

Germania turned back to the children, their eyes wide with horror. "Now which of them should I kill first?"

"Neither, I hope." Germania spun around in shock as the familiar voice sounded from the doorway. Leaning against the door, a blood drenched bandage across his chest, was Rome. He limped over to the Germanic nation, eyes glittering with menace.

"I, I killed you," Germania rasped, eyes wide with disbelief

"Not yet," Rome growled and he lunged toward his foe, gladius drawn. Germania did not leap away quickly this time, and the battered gladius found its mark. It sunk deep into Germania's stomach. Rome collapsed, his old wound reopening.

Romano and Veneziano rushed forward. "Avus! Wake up! Don't leave us!"

Rome opened his eyes one last time. "nil desperandum, mi pueri." His body then fell still.

sic transit gloria mundi.

* * *

Latin Glossary

villa: house

amphora: jar

culina: kitchen

atrium: foyer, entry

ancilla: female slave

frater: brother

caudex: blockhead, idiot

avus: grandfather

tablinum: study

gladius: sword

horto: garden

servus: slave

corpus: body

columba: dove

minime: no

sic transit gloria mundi: thus departs worldly glory

* * *

Author's Note: It's finally over, I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading. My apologizes for the very late update.


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